Disclaimer: These characters and their world are as not mine
as they could possibly get.
Summary: Jack and Sydney spend their first Christmas
together without Laura and Jack wants it to be perfect. Thanks to a cold, that
turns out to be more difficult than he'd hoped.
Gift for Meg
"Syd?" Taking his
eyes off the book, Jack craned his neck and looked down at his daughter. Sitting
on his lap, her head lolled to the side and her body seemed heavier and limper
than normal. When she did not answer his whisper, Jack was sure she was asleep.
He smiled to himself and put down the worn, over-read copy of 'A Night Before
Christmas'. It was a holiday tradition for him to read it to her, and this year
he would not allow a simple head cold to come between him and it. Traditions
were more important this year than ever before because it was their first
Christmas without Laura. Irina. Sydney's
mother. So this year the holiday traditions had to be absolutely perfect... to
make up for the fact that the holidays themselves would never be quite perfect
ever again.
Clearing
his throat, Jack scooped his daughter up in his arms and carried her up the
stairs to her bedroom. He wished he could go right to bed as well, but there
was still quite a lot to do this night. Sydney
stirred but did not stay awake as he tucked her into bed. His eyes fell upon
her nightstand, to the picture of her mother sitting upon it in a little wooden
frame. He sighed and shook his head sadly. It was one of the very few pictures
of her left in the house.
But then
his nose started to itch. He reached over the picture to the tissue box on the
nightstand and pulled several out at once. He cupped them to his face, muffling
the sound of the sneeze building with deep breaths. Knowing that he was not
going to be able to escape before it struck, Jack's hand gripped one of the
posts of Sydney's bed. "hhhMphshhh! EMphshhh!" He
gave a muffled cough and wiped his nose as he backed away from the bed. His
sneezes had not woken Sydney and he
wanted her to stay asleep tonight of all nights. "Sweet dreams. Sleep tight,"
he whispered softly.
He headed
straight for his bathroom by way of his bedroom. He threw the tissues away and
washed his hands for the umpteenth time that day. Drying them off in the hand
towel, he went through the list of things he needed to get done tonight. Starting
with lugging all the presents downstairs.
That feat
alone took three trips. It was so much because there were a large number of
gifts, rather because there were a number of gifts that were difficult to
carry. There was a large doll house, and with it a set of dolls and furniture
in a few small, separate packages. On the more educational side, there was a
dictionary, thesaurus, and atlas set. There was also a dress-up set with costumes,
jewelry, and wigs that Sydney had
expressed an odd fascination with during their trip to the department store to
see Santa Claus. Luckily she had not asked for her mother to return. Maybe she
understood the situation better than Jack had thought, or maybe she doubted
Santa's ability to bring anything and everything. Sydney was at that age where
she was starting to doubt Santa's existence, and Jack suspected this would be
her last truly magical Christmas. The choice to tell her would have been one to
discuss with Laura. But Laura was not here any more. There was nothing but a
half-decorated tree, a stack of presents, and stockings hung by the chimney
with care. Two full-to-bursting stockings which looked lonely hanging from the
mantle without a third.
On his last
trip up he donned a sweatshirt, one of the many Laura had bought him. He had
been feeling a bit chilled, and now he did not have Sydney
on his lap to warm him up. He had thought with all the walking up and down he
might be a bit warmer, but apparently not. The sweatshirt helped, however, as
did an extra pair of socks. And by the time he reached the living room, he was
slightly warmer.
After
placing the last of the presents under the tree, Jack looked around the living
room. He had kept the lamps turned off so as not to send light into the hallway
upstairs and wake Sydney with its
brightness. Ideally, he should have closed the door to her bedroom, but there
was something almost magical about tiptoeing past her door with presents and
moving around in the darkened living room. It would have been completely dark
if not for the large colored lights on the tree. There was also a string of
bubble lights, favorites of his. He liked nothing more than sitting and
watching them. They reminded him of his childhood. There was a garland
outlining the window on each side and the top. And there was a ribbon with
Christmas cards strung up across the bare wall over the couch. There was a
train running around the base of the tree, a small set of reindeer pulling a
sleigh on one of the bookcase shelves, and a set of candles on the mantle. The
room looked quite festive already.
With a sigh
and a rub at the back of his neck, Jack sat down on the sofa. He sniffled and
bowed his head as he bent over, lower arms against his slack-covered thighs. All
of the walking up and down stairs had made him lightheaded. His nose itched
again as well and it reminded him to check his watch. An hour and a half and he
could take another round of cold pills. His sneezes, however, did not seem to
want to wait that long. He reached over to the coffee table and pulled a few
tissues out of the box. "huhhhh... hahhh-CHEEShhhhh!"
He froze, holding the tissues to his face, waiting for his nose to stop itching
and tickling. "huhhh-IHShoo! HuShoo!" He
blew his nose and stuffed the balled up tissues in his pocket with a sigh.
Then he
took a deep breath and rose to his feet. There was more to be done. He snatched
a cookie from the table and nibbled on it as he opened a box of tinsel. He
draped it on the tree by the handful, noticing that he could not smell the tree
even as he stood behind it and sniffed. He nose was simply too stuffed up.
After the
red tinsel came the candy canes. He'd bought two boxes and set two aside for
their stockings before hanging the rest on the tree. Then he sat down in the
arm chair beside the tree to catch his breath. He broke off half a cookie and
ate it, making sure to leave some crumbs on the plate. Then he chased it with
half a glass of milk. The milk was still cold and he shivered as he set it back
down next to the plate of cookies on the coffee table. He pulled the red and
green throw off the back of the chair and wrapped it around his shoulders.
It took a
few moments to warm up to him, especially as he had to lean forward and grab
the tissue box as well. He ran one beneath his itchy nose. He wiggled it,
hoping that might soothe the sensation. But instead, the tickle intensified and
he closed his eyes. "hehhh-hehhh-EHShoo! ihhhChuhhh!"
He shoved this tissue in his pocket as well. It would not do to leave used
tissues all over the place. If he could do anything to avoid giving Sydney
his cold, he would do it.
It would
certainly have been much easier to deal with the holiday had his wife been
around. He had had been ill a number of times in her presence and she had
always seemed to take such good care of him. Jack sighed again, unhappily. He
did not like the idea of wanting Laura-- Irina-- back.
Jack
shivered again, but because of his memories. Times which had once seemed so
warm and caring were now tainted. And he was working harder than ever at work
now on top of having to prove that he had absolutely no part in her exploits.
It left little time to be with Sydney,
which he was sure hurt Sydney a
lot. It was like losing a mother and a father all at once. The Slones were a great help, but she needed her father now.
And he had charged himself with making sure the holidays were enjoyable no
matter what. It was the least he could do.
"hahhChoo! hehhChooo!"
He directed the sneezes into his shoulder as he collected more tissues. "hehhChuhhh! hahhhShuhhh!"
He blew his nose and stuffed the tissues in his pocket again with a groan. He
really wanted to get up and throw them away, and get a nice hot cup of tea
while he was at it. But he really did not have the energy. And as he continued
to sit in the dark room and stare at the glowing lights, he felt drowsy. Slowly
his eyes closed and he fell asleep before he could stop himself.
Several
hours later he awoke to someone tugging on his arm. He sat up with a start,
realizing that it was Christmas morning and he'd been sleeping in an armchair
all night. His back hurt and neck ached even more than it had before. "It's
Christmas!" Sydney said, standing
before him in her nightgown and with a wide smile on her face. "And Santa
came!"
Jack put on
a smile to match. Just seeing his daughter so excited was enough for that. He
ran a hand through his hair, hoping it wasn't too mussed.
"Did you
sleep here all night?" she asked. He nodded. Her eyes widened. "Does that mean
you saw Santa Claus?"
After
coughing into his shoulder, Jack shook his head. "Sorry," he told her. "He must
have been quiet because I didn't even wake up."
"Of course
he's quiet," she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
For a moment, Jack remembered tiptoeing through the hallway the night before.
"He's magical, Daddy."
"Of course
he... he is..." The itch in his nose had returned. It transformed into a full-blown
tickle in mere seconds. His nostrils flared and the need to sneeze intensified
a hundred fold. Quickly he scrambled for the tissues. He brought a half dozen to
his face just in time. "ehhhChhfff! hehhhChoof! Ehh-hehChfffff!" Somehow the sneezes felt stronger,
wetter than normal. He sighed and carefully balled the tissues up in his fist.
Sniffling and trying to manage a smile, he looked back at Sydney.
For a moment,
he thought she was inspecting the cookies on the table, and he panicked, hoping
there were no crumbs down his front. But then he saw she was picking something
else up off the table. It was a glass of tap water and the box of cold pills
he'd left beside the sink in his bathroom. "Saw you weren't in bed and thought
I'd bring these too you," she said, offering them over.
He took
them with a grateful smile. After checking to be sure they were all there, he
popped two out of the foil and plastic tray and swallowed them with some water.
"Thank you, Sydney." He sniffed and
cleared his throat again. "Why don't you get our stockings down and we'll open
them first?"
She
practically raced over to them and carefully pulled them off their hooks on the
mantle. When she brought them over, Jack had his nose buried in another fistful
of tissues. "huhhhhhhChooo! hehhhShoofff!"
He sniffled miserably and looked at Sydney
apologetically. "Excuse me."
She smiled
and shook her head. "It's all right. Daddies are allowed to get sick
sometimes." Sydney handed over his
stocking and then climbed up into his lap. She snuggled into him and put her
stocking on her lap in order to go through it. But first she took a long look
at the Christmas tree. "You really did a beautiful job," she told her father.
Jack's
heart skipped a beat and he felt that same wave of panic rush through him. It
was nothing like staring down the barrel of a gun. In fact, if anything, it was
worse. His daughter's innocence and enjoyment meant more to him than anything.
"Ah, Santa did a beautiful job," he
corrected her.
Sydney
just smiled and nodded as though she knew everything now and had known all
along when, in fact, Jack was sure she simply suspected it. But whether she
knew or not, it did not stop her from diving into her stocking. And, as he
started to feel the cold pills working, Jack did the same.